Facade
by BitterPotato00
Summary: Facade- physical, 70 power. Doubles in strength when the user is afflicted with a status condition. Also used to mask extreme pain.
1. Chapter 1

"Alright Gold. Enough is enough. What's wrong?"

The aforementioned teen glanced up from his place at the table, pausing momentarily in his report. Documents were scattered all around him, detailing new baby Pokémon from some far away region. Work had definitely picked up throughout the past few months, assuredly the reason for those ominous bags beneath his amber eyes and growing notches between his eyebrows. At least, that's what Silver attempted to convince himself. He was no therapist- emotions were never his strong suit- but a creeping feeling had lodged itself in his chest. In fact, it had been there for a while.

"...what?", came the eloquent response.

" You heard me," the redhead returned. Shit, not too harsh, he scolded himself, always too damn harsh. "I know something's wrong, Gold. We can do this the easy way or the hard way, whichever you want."

"This'll be pretty easy then, cause nothing's wrong with me! I get it bro, Intervention is your show at the moment, but leave the therapy to Candy." Silver could've predicted the response the moment his boyfriend opened his mouth. Same grin(it seems rehearsed somehow), same smartass retort(spoken mechanically as well), same dismissal(I want to help you), same routine, every fucking time.

Instantly, the paper was whisked off the table from under Gold's hand. Coolly indifferent, the teen leaned back and snickered.

"Hey, I gotta get that in by tomorrow. Take it. If Oak loses his shit, it'll be at you, not me."

Steely eyes narrowed in annoyance. Avoiding the question, check. Typical.

"Quit joking around, shithead!" Silver took a deep breath. You have to tell him, he assured himself, he has to know. "... I read it."

Finally, the smirk evaporated, and instantly Silver felt its absence(barren territory. Like a carnival after closing.). Gold's face blanched and for once, he seemed to hesitate before speaking again.

"You read it?"

In all honesty, Silver was ready for the routine. Catch the dumbass waist deep in his antics(the words leave a bad taste in the mouth), push down the fear of intimacy, love, or any sappy shit he was deprived of(they drip with sincere repulsion), argue heatedly for a minute or two, and when it's all well and done, then Silver can look at him and say... he can find his voice and say... he can be a fucking man and say-

"How can you say those things about yourself?" Silver's voice wobbled despite himself(I want to say I love you, Gold).

The pen his hand grasped suddenly stilled. He laid it down on the table gently, never breaking eye contact with Silver. Silence engulfed the apartment; it was heavy and dark and oddly intimidating, perfectly matching the sitting man's stare. After several excruciating moments, Gold spoke again.

"It's nothing, Silver."

"Really? So writing about what a fucking failure you are is nothing? Going on about being worthless and untal-"

"What I don't understand is why you're wasting your time with my bullshit! Man, you have other things to worry about and my bitch fit isn't one of them."

"...didn't sound like a bitch fit to me", Silver muttered. Conversations were hard, he had realized years ago, and although he had gained the freedom to speak since his escape, Silver was still content to leave the verbal confrontations of emotion and problems to somebody else. Unfortunately, the roles were reversed this time, and that somebody was sitting right in front of him with a face of annoyance and embarrassment. Facade be damned, because Silver could still see the fear he was desperate to mask. The words were on the tip of his tongue, composed of the distorted conversations they'd had together(when he helped you out). "It's… uh.. it's alright to struggle, you know."

Gold simply slouched his face into his hands.

"I'm not struggling. I don't have a reason to struggle. I don't have a reason to get angry or get upset or- or do whatever the fuck I'm doing now."

"What do you me-"

"I've had it easy, Silver. I've had everything handed to me. My family, my pokémon, everything, and I'm sitting here like I have one damn thing to be the slightest bit upset about. It's pathetic. I'm pathetic, and don't you fucking lie and say that what I wrote isn't true."

With that, Gold finally stood up and strode away. Silver could swear that among his reddened face and taut mouth, there was faint moisture in his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Silver didn't know how long he stood there after Gold walked out, and frankly, he didn't care to realize. He strained to hear any sort of rustling, thumping, obnoxious singing, anything hinting to the normalcy he desperately craved right now. But he knew better. The creeping feeling never went away; its persistence was now accentuated with the dreadful fact that _he was right_. Silver was correct in his shitty, fleeting, absurd assumptions. His boyfriend, one of the only steady blessings in his life at the moment, had…. issues.

Obviously, he thought, everyone does. Doesn't matter what happens to them, because life always had a way to fuck anybody over. It was another lesson to learn- quite a bitter one at that- that pain didn't always occur from abuse and masks. That fact used to anger the redhead; it used to be understood as undermining what happened to him, to shut him up, keep him miserable. It was different now, thankfully. Pain is an equalizer, coming in all bullshit sizes and striking at any bullshit time and for any bullshit reason- but it never truly rendered a person totally alone. A certain somebody told him that once, yet didn't get the message himself. No, instead he holed himself in a happy shell and left the disturbing mantras splattered all over the pages in notebooks hidden away. Silver could only flip through one of the many. He finally took a shaky step towards the closed door (how long have you left him like this?), analyzing innumerable strategies to help Gold (he's needed your help for a while now. You just didn't see it.).

 _You just didn't see it._

Silver felt his stomach drop at the thought and strode to the door, immediately throwing it open. He then proceeded to the large lump of blankets on the bed and sat down beside it ungracefully. The mass did not shift, but Silver saw the rhythmic expansion and deflation of breath.

"Gold."

A muffled reply warbled from beneath the pile.

"Gold, for fucks sake, you can talk to me," Silver immediately cringed at the words that spilled roughly from his mouth. He added hastily, "really."

A hand protruded from the mess and stripped away the covers. Gold finally sat up and rubbed his eyes before meeting his boyfriend with a worn down grin.

"And you bitch at me for not knocking," Gold softly chuckled. Silver could still tell the forcefulness of the joke. _Will it always be this way? Was it always like this?_ His smile faltered and disappeared beneath Silver's even stare.

"Look, I'm fine, okay? That- that stuff I wrote, I didn't mean any of it, really! It's nothing... Don't look at me like that, man. You act like I'm a bad day away from jumping off a bridge."

Silver felt himself grimace at the end of that statement. It hurt more than he'd like to admit in knowing that there was a sliver of a credible threat in Gold's words.

"I don't know where you got the idea that your problems don't mean anything," Silver uttered, leaning down to meet his best friend's eyes, "but that's not true. You're…. you're hurting, Gold. That much is obvious. You can't act for shit and I'm not just gonna… I, uh, won't just- fuck, I'm not gonna sit by and watch you suffer! Listen, you, you might not realize this, but _you're fucking important to me!_ When you hurt, it hurts me. I don't know how the fuck to do this, or how in the hell I'm gonna get you to understand, but it's gonna happen; and it's gonna start _now._ "

Silver didn't expect to admit such deep feelings in that moment, through just one breath. He had no idea what came over him, but he couldn't take the words back- he didn't want to, either. The look plastered on Gold's face was a certain sign of progress; he grimaced and sat up straighter, averting his eyes and starting:

"Fine. You win. I meant what I wrote, and what I said back there. Honestly, man, I understand this as much as you do. That is, I fucking don't. All my life has gone without a hitch- my family is great, I have my partners by my side, I helped save the world. I _should_ be happy, but I'm not. People go on about how fucking skippy that content feeling is, you know? How natural, warm, shit like that. You don't know how hard I've tried to be happy, but it didn't work. It still doesn't."

Gold went quiet for a moment, then added softly, "...sometimes I think it's hopeless."

Struck with the aspect of his boyfriend opening up and frustrated with his usual lack of comunicacional skills, Silver gaped lamely for a moment. "I know fuck all about this too," he began unsurely, "but I know things like that….. can't, uh, _be_ forced. You focus on them too much and don't realize how quickly they pass by."

"I can't believe you, Mr. Therapist," Gold remarked with a shake of his head, "I don't know how you do it. All this awful shit happens to you and you just keep going, while I sit here and bitch about-"

"Say 'nothing' one more damn time, I swear," the ginger interrupted. "You know, it's not _nothing_ to me."

With that, a slight flush crept up around the amber eyes that always seemed to hold Silver captive.

"...You really mean that?"

A gloved hand rested on Gold's slouching shoulder. A small smile adorned the redhead's face, causing the opposite eyes to subtly light up in response.

"Yeah."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, but Silver could tell there was still more to be discussed. Not one to beat around the bush, he heaved a sigh and immediately said, "You force me to bitch to you, so I'll force you to bitch to me. You're not done, so might as well just say what you want. I'm listening." With this, he leaned himself into Gold's side, his head resting on his best friend's shoulder. Little portrayals of affection such as this never failed to strike a wave of warmth in both of their hearts.

"I dunno if this can be fixed, Silver. I dunno if _I_ can be fixed. It's like, maybe this is just _what I am_. Maybe… maybe I should accept that I'll always feel this way," Gold slowly stated, glancing towards his companion. When he was met with a conflicted face and heavy silence, he felt his eyes become misty once more. "...I'm sorry man. You shouldn't have to deal with my bullshit. You shouldn't have to…." he broke off.

 _You shouldn't have to deal with me._

Gold didn't have to say it, but Silver knew all the same.

"I know that you feel worthless now, Gold. I know the feeling. After…after we escaped and Blue went off to Kanto, I felt the most useless I ever had. I felt like my place in the world was nothing but a mistake. You feel like your worth is based on menial things, like being a trainer or working with the professor, b-but it's _more_ than that, Gold. It's who you are-like your personality, and how much you care to help people. You help them in meaningful, permanent ways; I know, cause you helped me. You still do."

Silver froze up when Gold started to quietly weep. He shot up and gripped the crying young man by the shoulders, meeting his tearful gaze. An apology was on the tip of Silver's tongue before Gold quietly spoke up:

"Hey, man...thank you."

"Oh. Uh. You-you're welcome!" He spat out with much more enthusiasm than was really necessary. Easing up when Gold let out a genuine laugh for the first time in a while, he scowled playfully. "Aw, shut up. I mean, not really. But you know what I'm trying to s-"

A quick kiss to the lips finally shut Silver up. He flushed immediately, as usual, but decided to hold the other's soft gaze. It never failed to make him melt under his stoic exterior-but even that was falling apart when he was with Gold. It was a vulnerable, intimate feeling that Silver stopped fighting a long time ago.

Many things went on as usual following that conversation, but other things had changed. Gold started acting more mellow-still keeping his asshole ways, but not forcing happiness like he had done before. When he was sad, he worked through it; when he felt worthless, which still occurred rather frequently, he talked it out. It was slow going, and some days Gold felt like he was right back at square one, but other days, he experienced happiness. It was through small, simple things and never lasted a long time, but he felt them all the while-and they were worth the wait.


End file.
